Sherlock Holmes and the Game of Magical Love
by CuTmYwRiStXxCullen99
Summary: Remus Lupin and student John Watson are in a relationship but what happens when a mysterious Ravenclaw named Sherlock comes to Hogwarts to investigate a series of murders. One shot. RemusXWatson, SherlockXWatson Rated M.


_Watson moaned, passion mounting. _

_ Lupin was inside him. Yes, this was what he always wanted. It was heaven, hot, sweaty heaven. _

_ "More, Professor! More!" He cried, almost screaming. _

_ "More?" The word was a pant. _

_ "Oh GOD YES. PLEASE." _

_Lupin's intense power thrusting lasted for nine minutes, a feat only someone who possessed his animalist energy could accomplish. Watson let out a half-groan, half-scream that made Lupin go primal as the boy came. Without thinking, the animal inside him took over and Lupin bit the boy on the neck, dragging his were-wolf fangs along the boys back in a spray of hot, tasty blood. Lupin, who had just had his fantasy fulfilled, managed to disengage himself before he came on the boy's bloody back. Blood and semen mixed together to create something beautiful and the two; one a grown man, and one a young adult, both lay together on the wooden floor of the Shrieking Shack, spent. _

Remembering the event sent chills down Watson's spine. The marks on his back were healing fine but the sex had been so intense that he was now recovering in the infirmary with an ache in his heart and other, lonelier places as well. Remus, that god of a man, had brought him in to Madame Pomfrey sometime later and let him go with just a wink. Madame Pomfrey simply sighed and began mixing a poultice for the bloody marks that ran the length of his back. Luckily, Remus had remembered to clean the cum off his back before sending him there. Currently, he was the only student there and bored out of his mind.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and a familiar voice. Dumbledore entered the room with a student entirely unknown to Watson. The student wore unfamiliar double-breasted robes with a line of buttons. It looked like a muggle's peacoat. The only thing that marked him of being of a particular house was his blue, silver, and gold tie. He was a Ravenclaw!

"Sherlock, we need your help." Dumbledore said, "I've called you in for a very important purpose; to find out whose been attacking our students."

"You refer, of course, to the recent string of werewolf attacks on and off campus, I presume?" Sherlock replied.

"Yes, the attacks are all random and each of the victims has been horribly mutilated. We wouldn't have recognized Ronald Weasely but for that disgusting ginger hair."

"Hm. Yes." Sherlock pursed his lips in disgust.

"Now there's a certain student I want you to keep an eye on, Sherlock…" The head-master's voice faded as he walked down the hall-way, showing Sherlock around the rest of the castle.

After the two left, Watson let out the breath he had been holding whilst pretending to be asleep. Yes, there had been a recent string of attacks and the student body was attributing it to were-wolves, but that didn't matter now… This student, Sherlock, he was fascinating in all the right ways. Watson was hard at the thought of this spicy intelligent new-comer so he turned over in his hospital bed to hide the protrusion. Eventually, the still exhausted boy fell asleep.

Sherlock had decided: he was going to investigate this nasty ginger fellow and procure himself a cup of tea while he was at it. He roamed the halls in godly nonchalance, occasionally removing his magnifying glass to study the oddities of Hogwarts. A conversation ahead piqued his interested.

" I really didn't care for him much myself. He was just so…ginger." A high-pitched female voice said in accent that may just have been posher than Sherlock's own.

"YEAH. SERIOUSLY. What a noob at life." A boy with glasses and a horribly disfiguring scar replied. It was Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, just the two people he needed to see. Sherlock maneuvered his way to walked directly in Hermione's path and knock over the heavy stack of books she was carrying. Somehow, the bushy haired girl managed to land on top of him, straddling his chest. He removed the book that now covered his face and looked up to see…BREASTS. The girl pulled up her shirt in attempt to hide them, saying "Oh sorry, they do slip out sometimes."

"HOGWARTS, A HISTORY!" Sherlock exclaimed, "This book is my favorite. I have the gold edition with the special preface by Thaddeus J. Thaddeus himself. My dear, are you reading this?"

The girls eyes lit up with joy, "Oh, I've already read it… it's just… reference." The girl said, still on top of him.

"Lovely. Do you perchance know where I can get a cup of tea around here? I'm new, you see."

"Yes, yes of course! Let me help you up." She stood up, making sure to linger just long enough to provide the new-comer with a healthy up-skirt view. Sherlock, however, was too busy studying the boy with the unfortunate disfigurement and equally unfortunate circular glasses.

_Four and half hours and six cups of tea later…_

Sherlock had been forced to listen to the dreadful female speak for several hours longer than he had intended while the scarred boy stared at her cleavage, occasionally convulsing in pain on the ground and complaining loudly. It seemed everyone in the great hall had become accustomed to such behavior, so Sherlock simply made note of it, without offering aid. 'I never had much of a problem with gingers,' he thought to himself, wondering what exactly had made this Ronald fellow so 'nasty.' The wounds that had claimed his life were definitely werewolf in nature. He had learned all he could from this dreadful creature, now it was time to go find this 'John Watson', the student that Dumbledore had assigned him to investigate.

"Where is the Hufflepuff common room?" he interrupted the girl in the middle of a trifle. She looked confused.

"Aren't you a Ravenclaw…?" she asked. He looked down at his colorful tie.

"Oh yes, I suppose. Where is the Hufflepuff common room?"

Sherlock lounged in the Hufflepuff's overly warm common room, staring at the fire. The bushy haired girl could only point him in the general direction but it hadn't been difficult to find. The Hufflepuffs, he had come to find, were rather simple-minded and thus guessing the password been even less difficult. His target: John Watson. If he was correct in his evaluations, the boy should be arriving any second.

Watson was in shock. The dastardly good looking student from before, Sherlock, was in his common room. When he entered, Sherlock was sitting comfortably on the sofa in the common room. Their eyes met across the room and Sherlock stood up.

"John Watson!", he called, "Take a seat. You must still be in pain."

Watson limped across the room. "Sorry, do I know you?"

"Oh come off it, John. If everyone held their breath while they slept, no one would be alive."

John blushed furiously. He hoped he hadn't noticed other things _as well_.

"I see I'm making you uncomfortable, but I do have some inquiries, such as; why are you limping if, I heard correctly, you were assaulted from the rear?" Sherlock asked.

John sat down and cleared his throat, "Well you see, I used to be a quidditch player, but then I took a bludger to the knee."

"I see…well I'll be off. See in you in class." Sherlock left.

_The next day…_

John sat behind his desk uncomfortably, the smooth wood of his desk concealing another type of wood altogether. He was only half as hard as usual since him and Remuses break-up. His thoughts were disturbed as a swarthy young gentlemen sat beside him. It was Sherlocke!

"'Ello, chap! What's this class, then?" Sherlock asked a slightly aroused Watson.

Just then, Remus Lupin swept into the room.

"WELCOME TO DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS!" Lupin boomed. Many a student jumped in their seat and the professor surprised them but Sherlock didn't. John admired his calm confidence.

"TODAY WE ARE LEARNING TO DEAL WITH BOGGARTS. THE SPELL IS 'REDUKULOUS.' SAY IT WITH ME. 'REDIKULOUS!'" The teacher forced the students to repeat the word lots of times.

"This class is ridiculous." Sherlock mumbled under his delicious breath. At that same time, some dumb-ass platinum blonde kid in the back stared daggers at the swarthy detective for taking the words out of his undelicious bitch mouth.

Remus ignored his rowing students and continued the class. In the wardrobe in the middle of the room, there was a boggart. His students would soon be facing their worst fears. Watson, Remuses exboyfriend/lover/confidante, was second to last in a line of students. Remus couldn't help but notice how the swarthy noob in the class, this Sherlock, couldn't help but stare at John. 'That little slut!', Remus thought angrily, glaring daggers, 'if he thinks he's getting a turn at this little game, then he's wrong!'.

Meanwhile, John's worst fear was standing in front of him looking pretty menacing. It was a vampire, a really scary one. The vampire's fangs dripped blood and it reminded John of that one time a vampire killed his parents. He was really scared.

"REDUKILOUS!" Watson screamed brokenly. He was broken. Next, it was Sherlock's turn.

"ALRIGHT CLASS OVER." Remus announced, before Sherlock could step up to the boggart. Sherlock couldn't help but wonder what exactly _was_ his greatest fear. Immediately, ugly pungent garlic flashed to mind but flashed out just as quickly because there were many thoughts going through his head. Class was over so everybody left.

_Lunch time…_

Sherlocke attempted to follow Watson to lunch but soon was confounded by the moving stair cases. He headed to lunch on his own and decided to look for him there. Unfortunately, he only found Hermione and Harry and a fuck-load of food and floating candles. Watson was nowhere in sight. He tried to leave, eating only what he needed, but soon enough, Hermione had found another way to entrap him. This time, she sat on his lap and offered him various pies, discussing the class they had just had.

"You know, people always tell me I'm good with my hands…' she said, massaging Sherlock's inner thigh. She ran her hand up the buttons on his robe and said abruptly 'Also!' she shoved her fist in her mouth, 'I ca shoff my fisth in my mouth.' She said, fist in mouth. Harry's boner was obvious so Sherlock transferred the girl from his lap to the guy next to him's lap, who was Harry. 'All that just for a preface by Thaddeus J. Thaddeus…' thought Sherlock as he walked away to find Watson.

Slash.

The blood dripped down Watson's pale wrist. It felt good. He felt like his soul felt like a deep abyss of swirling dark emotions. He wanted the darkness to swallow him whole as he listened to the lyrics of his favorite song.

_These wounds won't seem to heal._

_This pain is just too real. _

_There's just too much that time cannot erase…_

The words touched a part of him that no one else could. When Amy Lee sang, he felt like she sang only for him. Evanescence had been his favorite band for as long as he could remember. The enchanted poster on his wall he had gotten at their last concert was charmed to play his favorite song; My Immortal. John began to weep and started sobbing brokenly and cut himself some more.

"John…" It was Sherlock's voice. A cold hand took his and gently cradled it in his lap. John looked up as Sherlock brought the boy's destroyed wrist to his lips.

"John…you shouldn't do this to yourself," he looked into Watson's bright emerald eyes, 'and you shouldn't do this to me." Sherlock then lapped at the blood sensually. John shivered. The blood rushed from wrist to groin, engorging his member immediately.

"Sh-sh-Sherlocke… we shouldn't… I can't…" John whispered in a husky tone.

"Should not and can not are too completely different matters entirely. Tell me dearest John, what's wrong?" He asked concernedly but also sounded like he was turned on.

"I…have a disease…I think…" John looked down embarrassedly at Sherlock's smirk, "I think I'm a werewolf." Suddenly Sherlock took John's face in his hands and brought it close. "John.", he said and shoved his tongue violently between his teeth. John shivered and noticed as he felt the back of Sherlock's throat that Sherlocke's hot mouth tasted like grapes. Sherlock pulled out of his mouth and started to undo John's shirt.

"It's okay John… you won't turn me. I'm a vampire." Sherlock said. John had a horrible flashback to watching his parents get killed by vampires. He blinked the bad memories away. He was at peace. He loved this man.

"You know, Sherlock, vampires ate my parents..."

"I know."

"HOW?" John asked in confusion and lust. Sherlock then began to explain his deductive methods to John which just confused John. John interrupted him by shoving his hand down Sherlocke's trousers.

"Oh.", was all Sherlock could say before he was on his back, while John took off his pants. Sherlock took off John's pants too. John started to stroke his cock fast and hard. Sherlock moaned in response. When two people were this in love, words need not be said.

"Take me." John said. Sherlock growled in pleasure and pushed John onto his bruised knees.

"How long can you be in this position with your bum leg?" asked Sherlock in his deep tones. John groaned in lust as Sherlock entered him from behind.

"As long…. as… you need…. me to" John panted breathlessly between thrusts. Sherlock's balls were slapping against John's hips wildly as he reached around and grabbed John's large penis with a firm hand that was still gentle. He squeezed on him till he was throbbing and wet. They both yelled in love and excitement as they both came together. They were glowing with an afterglow that was glorious too each boy. Sherlock raised up on one elbow and looked at his love, John.

" Wanna blow me?" He was already ready to go again and was rubbing his throbbing cock that was covered in precum and was all slippery. John licked his lips which were getting cracked from him panting so much. He sat up onto his knees and put his head on his thigh. He then put one of his balls in his mouth and then put Sherlock's penis in his mouth. He sucked on it up and down for a few minutes, making Sherlock crazy. Sherlock grabbed Watson's sandy blonde hair and made him go down further on him and thrust into his mouth.

"Gods yes!" he moaned and he thrusted harder. John's moans vibrated around Sherlock's throbbing cock, making him cum really hard. Semen was gripping down John's mouth and chin down onto his shirt. John was ready to have the favor returned.

"Could you do me a favor babe and get it started by hand first?" He said naughtily as he smirked. Sherlock winked and grasped him again. "You were pretty good with it before so-" John was cut off as Sherlock began to vigorously rub his cock. He had used the cum from before plus some spit to lube it. He got him going pretty well before he decided to put his mouth on it. He was really good also at blow jobs.

_The next day…_

It was divination.


End file.
